


The Stealth Suit

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Steve Rogers: One Shots and Reader Inserts [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drunk ramblings, Drunken Flirting, Explicit Language, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Shameless Smut, Smut, gentleman steve, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: A night of drinking leads to dares, and dares lead to getting caught red handed. What happens when you get caught wearing Steve’s Stealth Suit?For @yourtropegirl and her Stealth Suit Appreciation post.





	The Stealth Suit

## Steve Rogers x Reader Story

* * *

You were drunk. Not a little drunk, not seriously drunk, but _holy jeez someone hold my hair back this is going to be bad_ drunk. That was the only explanation you had for what happened next.

Thor, that lovely behemoth of blonde beefcake, had left his flask of Asgardian brandy...

_Wait… was it brandy? Did they have brandy on Asgard?_

Of tasty brown liquor, out where you had - in your infinite wisdom - decided to swipe it and spike yours, Natasha’s, and Clint’s drinks. And it had been _good_. Them Asgardians… _wow_ , they knew their liquor, but holy crap you were going to pay for it later. The high buzz and ridiculous giggles told you it was coming.

But for now, you were pleasantly drunk, seriously so, and your inhibitions were so low you’d begun to do the one thing you’d sworn you never would. You waxed poetic about Steve.

Both Nat and Clint knew very well just how much you liked the tall, blond Captain. What wasn’t to like? But you’d made it _very_ clear you were unlikely to ever do anything about it. Steve was or had been, firmly in a relationship with Sharon up until a few weeks ago, and while you might have been pining for him for over a year, you’d managed to keep your walls so firmly in place, no one but Nat and Clint knew of your nighttime fantasizing.

They only knew because you’d been on a month-long mission and had been the unfortunate recipient of a highly inappropriate dream to be having in a room with two other people. Their pity had been laced with amusement, making you threaten to shrink them down into tiny people and place them in a jar until they promised to shut up.

That was your ability after all. Like the Ant-Man you could grow or shrink depending on the situation, but you didn’t require a suit, nor discs to accomplish your tasks. It all happened in the blink of an eye and at your will.

But it was the drinking which had led to your current state. Alone in the compound, you, Nat, and Clint had been celebrating a job well done and relaxing for the first time in weeks.

“You and that suit,” Clint chuckled, waving a hand and throwing a wadded up tissue at you. Even drunk his aim was spot on and sent the little white ball right down your cleavage. “What’s so great about it? It’s no different than the other ones.”

“Oh, god, Clint!” Natasha groaned. “Do not get her started!”

Chuckling as you dug the ball from between your breasts, you chucked it back at Clint’s head. “It’s just so… _everything_.”

“That doesn’t help me at all,” Clint scoffed.

Getting to your feet with an extreme wobble, you motioned him up. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

With a slap to his thighs, he jumped up, fell back, was pushed off the couch by Natasha, and landed on the floor on his knees making you giggle.

“That was mean, Nat,” he whined.

She got to her feet without so much as a sway, and you narrowed your eyes her direction. “You need to drink more.”

“No, I really don’t.” Shaking her head, she jerked Clint to his feet and waved you onward. “One of us needs to be sober enough to keep you two from doing something stupid.”

“Hey,” Clint grumbled. “She’s the one who dared me to streak. I wasn’t gonna.”

“And who dared me to take Tony’s car and do donuts?”

“I didn’t think you’d take the Aston Martin!” he barked.

“But… it’s so pretty,” you pouted, “Tony never lets me drive it.”

Nat’s arched brow was rather chastising. “When you tried to wrap it around a tree, he has every reason not to trust you.”

“No my fault it had shitty tires,” you grumbled. “Skid through the gravel _one time_ , and they take all the fun toys away. Besides,” you gestured wildly, grabbing the wall when you nearly landed on your face, “I stopped before I died, didn’t I?”

She only rolled her eyes, which you took as being correct for she had no comeback and smirked smugly. Wobbling through the door where all the gear was stored, you smiled at the rows of gleaming weapons. Tony’s suits sat shoulder to shoulder with Steve’s, Bucky’s, Sam’s. There were a couple of sets for each of them now, along with a few each for yourself, Nat, and Clint. Each did different things, were better suited to different jobs, and were constantly being upgraded.

But it was Steve’s you were there for. Marching forward in your inebriated state, you pointed at the two which stood side by side. “See?”

“No, I don’t _see_ ,” Clint huffed.

“Just look, you big dork!” Punching the button to release the glass, you passed your hand down the contoured abdominal plating. “While this one and that one have the same design, _this_ is so much more aesthetically pleasing. The red and white stripping takes away from the shape of the suit, the way it moves. Not to mention the fact it lights Steve up like a big old target. Whose idea was it to paint him up like a bulls-eye?”

“Think it’s historically accurate,” Natasha pointed out.

“History-shmistory!” you snapped. “America’s greatest hero and they place a target on his most vulnerable area. Someone deserves to be smacked!” Dragging your hand up, you passed it over the star on his chest. “But take a look at this. The plating is so fluid here, you can hardly tell the difference between what’s Steve and what’s armour. It moves with him, doesn't restrict his arms, back, or chest.” Your fingers shifted to the shoulder. “The harness keeps his shield out of the way while protecting his back.”

“Like a turtle’s shell,” Clint snickered, earning a glare from you.

“The gloves are reinforced and better protection while still being light enough to allow for flexibility and dexterity.” You tried very hard not to think about the dexterity of Steve’s fingers and what he could do with those overly long digits. “The entire thing is made to move with him, allow him to be quick and quiet, and use Cap to his best advantage. The man is made for stealth, and this suit fits him better than any other.”

“You forgot the pants, (Y/N).”

You could tell from the glint in Natasha’s eyes she was only egging you on, but you were far too drunk to care. “As another woman, you cannot tell me you haven’t looked twice at that man in those pants. Don’t you lie to me, Natasha!”

“Sure, but Bucky’s are thicker,” Clint grumbled, practically hanging from Natasha’s neck.

Casting a double glance a Clint you snickered. “Something you need to tell us, Barton?”

“I like a woman who’ll ride a thigh.” He smacked his own nicely muscled one before slumping to the floor when Nat dropped him. “I know you all talk about Bucky’s.”

“Maybe. Thick is good, but have you seen the length of Steve’s thighs? Oh, lordy. A girl could just ride… _forever_ down that thick length of muscle.”

“You’re drooling, (Y/N),” Natasha snickered.

Wiping your mouth, you fingered the thick material of the stealth suit’s pant leg. “And this… mmmm… you’d get just the right amount of friction.”

Walking up beside you, Natasha’s devilish smile had you worried. “I _dare_ you to try it on.”

“What?” you gasped. “No!”

“Oh please! You know you want to, and I know you can make it fit, so just do it. I _double_ dare you!”

“You go, girl!” Clint called, waving his hand in the air from flat on his back. “I solemnly swear to look while you get naked.”

“Don’t you mean _not_ to look, Barton?”

“Nope!” he giggled, rolling his head your direction. “Pretty girl takes clothes off… I’m a-lookin'!”

“Do it,” Natasha urged, backing toward Clint. “I promise he won’t see a thing.” She sat quickly on Clint’s chest, holding his hands down with her thighs as she covered his eyes. “Hurry up, though! He’s a damn eel!”

Giggling, you stripped your shirt over your head, buttons flying all directions, wiggled out of your jeans and reached for the suit.

“Nice underwear,” Nat said, throwing in a catcall for good measure.

“Ah, man! I wanna _see_!” Clint whined, bucking beneath her.

Laughing at their antics, you took the heavier than you’d thought it would be suit from the case and glared at it. “How the hell does he get into this thing?”

“I know!” Clint sang from the floor. “But I get to see the pretties first!”

“Ha! Found it!” you crowed, pulling the back apart and stepping into it. With a thought, you shrunk the whole works down, taking a deep breath as the Kevlar flattened your girls quite uncomfortably. “Not made for women!” you gasped, increasing the chest size.

“Damn…” Natasha whispered, grinning smugly. “Do the boots and the gloves!”

Too far gone to care, you grabbed Steve’s boots and stepped into them, decreasing their size to match your feet, before tugging on the gloves. “Well?” you asked, holding out your arms.

“All you need is the shield.”

The sound of the metal hitting the floor had your heart hitting your throat before it plummeted right to the soles of Steve’s boots. Looking to your left, you found a stone-faced Captain looking back, Sam and Bucky to either side.

“Oops,” you whispered, finding yourself instantly much soberer than you had been.

“Oh shit,” muttered Natasha.

“Hey!” Clint grinned, thoroughly trashed. “You’re back! Come, drink with us. We dared (Y/N) into Cap’s suit. It’s her _favourite_ one,” he babbled before Natasha closed her hand over his mouth.

“Time to go.” In a flash of magic, you, the suit, and what dignity you had left, disappeared.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Steve’s big hand snapped out, him far more coordinated than you, and scooped your ant-sized body from the floor.

You swore silently but inventively at yourself for getting into this predicament. Steve was so mad, he had to be. You couldn’t even imagine the betrayal he must have felt to walk in after a mission, a mission you didn’t even know if it had succeeded or not, to find his friends fiddling with his stuff.

Sitting in the palm of his hand, you snuffled softly, wiping at the tears you found inexplicably falling down your cheeks. Between the booze and your abhorrence of yourself, you were starting to feel the effects of the Asgardian liquor you’d filched with far more clarity.

The slamming of a door preceded Steve’s fist opening and your short slide to the bed where you sat, knees to your chest, as the enormous figure dropped down before you.

“Change back,” he commanded.

Your size increased but only to that of a small child. It was about as big as you felt, and you couldn’t find it in you to grow anymore. “I’m so sorry, Captain.”

“I don’t want an apology, I want an explanation.”

You opened your mouth to try and give him one when the liquor you’d consumed decided it would no longer be ignored. You were full sized in an instant, rushing for the door you hoped was the bathroom, to unload your stomach of everything you’d put down there in the last few hours.

The gentle hands in your hair went unnoticed until you’d heaved yourself dry and the toilet flushed without your assistance.

“I’m so killing Thor…” you moaned, wishing to fall into a hole and die to escape what could now be classified as the _worst_ night of your entire life.

“Shit… you drank the Asgardian hooch he left behind?”

Nodding weakly, you finally noticed the soft touch on your hair. “I’m really sorry, Captain.”

“You think you’re sorry now, wait till tomorrow.”

Flinching, you shifted away from his hands. “This was completely unprofessional, totally my fault, and I’ll take whatever disciplinary action you want to dish out.”

“Dollface… the hangover you’re about to have is discipline enough.”

You whimpered softly in regret. “Barton and his stupid dares. Wait, no, this is Natasha’s stupid dare!”

“You could just say no, you know.”

The world tilted as he scooped you off the floor and set you gently on the counter, handing you a glass of water and three small white tablets.

Unable to look at him, you removed his gloves, swiftly rinsed your mouth, downed the water, and took the pills before commenting. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He handed you a bottle of mouthwash. “There are other ways to have fun without stealing people’s stuff, darlin’.”

Your whimper this time had nothing to do with the throbbing of your head, and everything to do with how _darlin’_ rolled off his tongue and made you feel.

Giving your mouth a swish and spit, you set the bottle beside you. “It was stupid. We were really drunk. I never should have… but I just… and Clint was so irritating, not believing me when I said this was the best suit, and it just feels so… nice.” You sighed, running your hands down your thighs. And it _smelled_ like him, but thank god you weren’t so inebriated you said _that_ with your outside voice.

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh, shit,” you whined, hanging your head. “Please, _please_ can I just go to bed? You can yell at me tomorrow when I am sane and have some semblance of brain to control my mouth.”

“I kind of like you without your brain,” he said softly, finally causing you to glance up at him.

“Huh?”

“Always so guarded. It’s tough to know what’s going on upstairs when I can’t get through your shields, doll.” His fingers threaded through your hair again.

“You… huh? What?”

“I wasn’t sure until tonight. I thought maybe there was more here than teamwork and friendship, but you’ve made it _damn_ hard to figure out.”

“Captain… I…” you could only stare up at his kind blue eyes with wonder when he leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Steve, call me Steve. We’ve worked together for a year. I think you can drop the Captain, especially as you’re wearing my clothes.”

Plucking at the pant leg, you blushed. “I’ll give them back.”

“Oh, I know you will.” He smiled gently. “But you want to know a secret?”

Oh boy, did you ever! “Sure,” you said with a shrug that caused him to chuckle.

Leaning down, scooping you close so your body snuggled right into his, Steve whispered against your ear, “It looks better on you.”

You snorted in derision. “I highly disagree, Cap-Steve.”

“Why’s that?”

Pulling back, you smirked up at him. “Why do you think we were in there in the first place? I was waxing poetic about the stealth suit of sex and how great it would be to ride your thigh-” you slammed both hands to your mouth. “I did not just say that out loud!”

“Yes, you really did.” He grinned smugly.

“Oh, god.” Chin falling to your chest, you gave a mortified whimper. “Just kill me.”

“It’s the liquor. Something about it makes us Midgardians incredibly honest.”

“Needs a goddamned label!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Thor.”

“I’ll tell Thor. Gonna kick that overly muscled man-child right in the-”

Steve’s mouth coming down on yours shut you up faster than a blow to the brain.

When his lips finally lifted, you sighed, “Holy… crap.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m nervous or super turned on.”

“Which one is it now?”

“Both,” you sighed, dragging him back down again, only to slump forward against his big body. “What… what’s… this?” you slurred, hardly able to keep your eyes open.

“The other effect of Asgardian liquor. You’re gonna crash… hard.” Scooping you from the counter, you were no better than a ragdoll when he took you back to his bed and began to peel you out of his suit.

“Mmm…” you sighed when warm, strong hands caressed your body. “I didn’t know you cared, Steve.”

“You have no idea,” he growled, eyeing your pretty underwear.

“I could go to my room.”

“Nope. You’re staying right here so I can keep an eye on you. You never should have drunk that stuff Thor left.”

You let your hands wander the broad arch of his shoulders and over his chest. “It was… so tasty.”

He gave you a shove which sent you over backward to land on his bed with a giggle. Hands returned to tug his pants down your thighs, and his boots off your feet.

“Need a shirt,” you muttered, already reaching behind you.

“For?”

“Sleep. Bra sleeping… icky.”

One of his was coming down over your head before you’d got the clasp undone.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.

You zipped your bra out the sleeve and chucked it at him. “You have… _no_ idea.” Giggling hysterically, you curled up on his bed and promptly went to sleep.

***

The baseline playing in your skull the next morning woke you with a groan. “What the fuck… happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Jerking around, you looked through blurry eyes at one Steve Rogers, laid out beside you in what was _so_ not your room. Shirtless, covered only in the bedding, your eyes lingered far longer on his chest than they should have before darting to your own t-shirt clad form.

“Oh… oh shit… what did I? What did we… what the hell did I drink?”

“I’m hurt, _darlin_ ’. You said I was the best you’d ever had, that you loved me, and that you’d happily bear my children. Three sons and two daughters. You even named them.”

“I… I what?” you shrieked, immediately regretting it when your temples pounded like the Hulk playing bongos. Groaning, you held your head. “I can’t believe I finally… and I can’t remember.”

“Finally… what?” he crooned, sliding closer to wrap his arm around your waist.

Blushing, you shuddered when his lips pressed to your throat. “That I finally said how I feel… and we… you know… and I missed it.”

His hand threaded into your hair, tugging gently to pull your head back and stretch your throat. “We didn’t,” he said against your skin with a wicked chuckle.

“Excuse me!” you squeaked.

“We didn’t. You got drunk, stole my suit, threw up in my bathroom, and passed out on my bed.”

“Oh, my god! That’s so much worse!” Curling up into a ball, you jerked the covers over your head.

He chuckled softly as he tugged them back off you. “Did you mean it?” he asked once he could see more of you than just your hair. “That you have feelings for me?”

Wishing the floor would open up and eat you, you waited a good thirty seconds before finally nodding.

“Good. I like you too, though I could do without the crazy dares.”

Heart jumping, you turned your head enough to see him over your shoulder. “Really?”

“Or include me once in a while, I mean, I’m the guy who’ll jump out of a plane with no parachute. What’s a couple of dares?”

“You… like me?” you whispered, ignoring the rest.

His face softened, eyes filling with affection. “Yeah, baby. Quite a lot, actually.”

“But… you just broke up with Sharon.”

“Who do you think brought it to my attention?”

“What!?” you squealed a second time only to flinch at your own foolishness when explosions went off between your ears.

His hand shifted from your hair to your temple where it rubbed in gentle circles. “We’d been growing apart for a while. When the end came, she said I needed to stop denying what was right in front of my face. She meant you.”

“Steve… I never…”

“I know. She said you were really good at keeping your feelings out of things. You weren’t the reason we ended it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

For the first time, you gently reached out and touched his cheek. “I’m still sorry, Steve.”

“Mutual parting. It didn’t hurt which makes me think… it wasn’t meant to be.”

Nodding slowly, unable to look away from his eyes, you whispered, “What now?”

Again a softness came to his eyes. “Well, you could start with fixing my suit.”

Snapping your fingers, you did just that. “Anything else?” His warm, hard body against yours was a pleasant distraction from the throbbing in your temples.

“Shower. Hate to tell you this, doll face, but you reek of booze.”

Giving him a shove, you rolled to a sitting position and grabbed for your head. “A curse on all Asgardians, or just the big one!”

“Hangover?” he asked, his long thighs settling to either side of yours while a rather firm weight settled against your sacrum. Big hands stroked over your bare skin, up to play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Yeah,” you fairly moaned when fingertips traced patterns across your belly.

“They say endorphins are good for hangovers,” he whispered against your ear. “Should I release some for you?”

“Steve…”

His fingers were already dipping down into the waistband of your underwear. “Like this, darlin’? Or you want to ride my thigh?”

“Shit!” you hissed, bucking into his hand.

“Thigh it is,” he snickered, lifting you quickly to your feet and dragging you around to land firmly on his leg. “No pants this time, but sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.”

“Steve…”

Hard hands dragged you up the length of his thigh, causing your underwear to play friction against your clit. It felt like it lasted forever.

“Fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back. “Take them off!”

The tearing of your underwear was swift, and when you rocked back, you left a trail of wet behind on his bare thigh.

“Damn… you’re so wet.” Stripping off your shirt, his mouth dropped immediately to your breasts.

You momentarily wondered what happened to your bra, but he was dragging you up that long expanse of thigh a second time, and you forgot to care.

“Jesus!”

“Doubt he’d approve, baby,” Steve chuckled, sucking your nipple into his mouth.

“Bite me,” you sighed rocking back. “Feels… so good, Steve.”

His hands increased their rhythm, dragging your forward, pushing you back, building up the wetness on his skin until he was so slick the friction on your clit was mind-numbing. “You gonna come on my thigh, (Y/N)?”

Moaning, you nodded. “So close.”

“Tell me what you need, baby?”

You rolled your head back, baring the side of your throat. His teeth instantly latched down, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to send you soaring. Thighs clamping together, you held still as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through you, causing contractions to shake you, and your body to beg for more.

“More,” you moaned, only to find yourself face down on the bed with Steve’s body coming down on top of you.

His hands jerked up your hips, and he was thrusting forward, bottoming out in a singular plunge which had you wailing into the sheets. “Baby, fuck!”

“Don’t stop!” you shrieked when he slowed down. Using your gift, you tightened around him to the point where pain and pleasure mixed and screamed out in pleasant agony when your body shattered around him.

“Christ! Fuck!” he bellowed, snapping his hips forwards to pound into you with enough force to shove the bed nearly off its frame. When everything shifted, he reached down and dragged you up against him, body hard and unyielding, to take you two steps and pin you against the wall.

His hips surged up, and you cried out. “Steve… harder!”

“Yes,” he hissed, forehead pressed to your temple, cock slamming without mercy into your body as you came around him again. “That feels… so good, baby.”

Grinding your ass back against him, you tightened your core muscles further and revelled in how he shook from the sensation. “Like that… Captain?” you laughed softly, enjoying the rough fucking.

“You know it, dammit!”

Short, sharp jerks of his thick cock through your clenching walls had you seeing stars a final time when the super soldier’s stamina finally gave out, jerking against you as he found his own release.

Steve leaned heavily against your spine as the rapid pounding of his heart slowed in time with yours. “I didn’t mean… this wasn’t supposed to happen… yet. I was gonna wine and dine you, darlin’.”

“You can wine and dine me later,” you smiled, the endorphins pumping through your system doing wonders for your hangover. “I think you cured my headache.”

“But now we both need a shower.”

“Considering my legs don’t seem to want to work, maybe you could _assist_ _me_?”

The seductive light in his eyes returned as you felt him stir within you, his cock still lovely and hard. “In more ways than one.”

Chuckling, you weren’t surprised when he step back and swept you naked up into his arms. “Guess it really is the stealth suit of sex.”

“It got you in my bed,” Steve snickered.

“For that, it will always be my favorite.”

Eyeing it for a moment, Steve sent you a wicked grin. “Maybe you’ll wear it for me again?”

You easily returned his smile. “Only if you wear it for me first.”

“Deal!” he laughed, and walked into the bathroom.

**_-The End-_ **


End file.
